


Coffee Stains and Tears

by orphan_account



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Depression, F/M, Jealousy, Longing, Panic Attacks, Sad, Self-Harm, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-18 10:14:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13097937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Betty Cooper knows she should stop going back to him. She knows all it does is hurt her in the end. But every time that tries to stop she can't and she always winds up in the same place, Jughead Jones' door.





	1. hate

**Author's Note:**

> I hate you every time I fuck you  
> But I close the door  
> Cause I'm young and insecure  
> I loved you, what am I supposed to do?  
> It's all we're good for  
> While we're young and insecure

Betty moans into Jughead's mouth as he lifts her and sets her on the dining room table of his apartment, pushing her skirt up to her hips and running his hands along her hips.

 

Every time they fought they ended like this, with him between her thighs, groaning into her mouth as he holds her closer than she should allow him too, but even though her brain told her to keep him away, her heart screamed for him to stay.

 

So she lets him continue as he motions for to lift her hips so he can pull her underwear down to her ankles, and he moves in between her legs again, fumbling with the buckle on his belt blindly, his lips heavy against on hers.

 

She knows he's not worth fighting for. She knows that he'll never be hers anyway, not fully. He doesn't love her the way she does him, he never will, yet she always comes back. He taunts her with it, how she crawls back every time, but she doesn't see him complaining every time that he ends up with her, on every surface in his shitty apartment; and he definitely not complaining now, as he pulls his belt off and moves his lips from her lips to her neck, and she tilts her head to give him better access, her eyes falling shut.

 

She helps him unbutton his jeans as his hands begin to wander, wrapping around her to unclasp her bra. She knows that he's leaving marks on her neck, that he's rushing things again as she begins to tug on his jeans, a silent command for him to take them off.

 

He does so without hesitating, kicking them away once they're down to his ankles, his boxers gone with them.

 

Before she knows it, he's between her legs again, pushing against her entrance, and for a second she wants to protest, she wants to say no, because god damn she knows it's going to hurt; but all protests are gone when he captures her mouth again and thrusts into her all in one swift move and she's fighting tears and trying to ignore the burning deep in her as he sets a brutal pace. Her nails dig into his back, clawing him and she's sure there will be marks later, and part of her wishes that she'd be here to see them. The other part of her is yelling at her to run for the hill, but her heart is overpowering, and instead of trying to ignore the pain she embraces it, embraces it all except the hole in her heart and the crescent-shaped marks on her palms, still red and angry, still bloody from earlier. She begins to attempt to meet his thrusts, she registers the pleasure that is standing by the ache of his length inside of her, and moves her head down, and begins to make sure there will be marks on him too. They both know she's only doing it to piss him off, they both know that he isn't hers like she is his. She knows about the girl, but she continues and Jughead grips her hips so hard she knows there will be bruises tomorrow.

 

She brings her hand down and begins to rub her clit when he begins to lose his pace, his thrusts becoming more erratic than before, and she nearly laughs when he slaps her hand away with a growl, replacing it with his own.

 

Part of her wishes it would last longer, as she feels herself begin to tighten around him, and she can't hold back the moans, her head thrown back as the heat in her lower belly pools, because she knows that as soon as he's done, she's gone again, not able to handle the silence or the looks. But she forgets this for a moment when he leans forward to kiss her roughly, and she cums around him, and he follows soon after, spilling inside of her.

 

It's only seconds later that he pulls out and she misses his warmth immediately, but who is she kidding, she just misses him in general.

 

All it takes is one look from him, and she misses the sadness and longing that gleams in his eyes, all she can see is the reflection of the other girl, and she's off of his table and pulling her underwear back up, trying to ignore the ache between her legs and in heart, the wetness of her eyes. She blinks back her tears and slips on her heels, and he makes no move to stop her, he just stands there in his boxers, staring.

 

“Betty...” he starts, and she tries to ignore the way it makes her heart flutter, all of her love for him washing over her all over again.

 

“I loved you.” she wants to say “I still do. So much.” but instead it comes out as a broken whisper of 'I can't' and she can barely hold back the tears, and her hands are curled into fists and she can't see the way he fights to uncurl them for her, to hold her hands in his and tell her it's alright.

 

But the sadness and longing turn to rage as she looks down at the ground and he doesn't know why.

 

He pushes the chair closest to him, watching it as it crashes to the floor.

 

“God damn it, Betty!” he yells and she flinches, her eyes still trained on the floor. “Why do you always do this?” and he can hear the hurt in his voice, but all Betty can hear is venom, all Betty can hear is the other girl's laugh. She can feel the blood trickling down her fingers, and it only makes her press her nails into the wound deeper. She feels the rage bubbling to the surface as the girl's laugh echoes through her mind, playing on a loop and she fights not to scream.

 

“I have no fucking clue Jughead!” she yells back, her green eyes turning to a fiery emerald “But I don't see you stopping me!”

 

He runs a hand through his hair and closes his eyes, turning away from her briefly. He doesn't know what to say to her, he never does anymore, especially not when she's like this. Before he has the chance to say anything, she's speaking again and her voice is dripping with rage, with anger directed towards him, and he nearly flinches at the words that she speaks.

 

“Maybe,” she says to him slowly, as if he is incompetent of understanding “Maybe I should leave. You never wanted me anyway.”

 

Part of her wants to believe that it's true, he never wanted her in the first place, but she can also see all the nights they spent together, their soft kisses that were once filled with love, not tension or lust, anger or need.

 

She sees his eyes widen and he's taking a step forward, speaking to her and she can see his eyes, now cold and hard.

 

“You know that isn't true,” he says, his voice low and dangerous, walking towards her.

 

She looks up at him with teary eyes, her heart aching and her head pounding.

 

“Yes it is,” she whispers, and for once, she wishes it was. Wishes that she didn't have to be here, with him.

 

He's in front of her now, and before he can say anything before she can think, she brings both hands up and pushes him back as hard as she can. Then she remembers the blood on her hands, and he feels the wetness on his chest as he stumbles back. She finally allows herself to cry.

 

“I can't,” she whispers again, then turns on her heel and runs out the door.

 


	2. worry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never needed you like I do right now  
> I never hated you like I do right now  
> 'Cause all you ever do is make me cry.

Jughead spent the next three days doing his best to forget the tears, her blood on his chest.

He tried to forget every time she walked out his door again. Every time she left him with his heart shattered, because every time she came back, he was hoping she wouldn't leave again, but every time, she did. He wasn't sure why, why she was always fighting back tears or avoiding his gaze. They hadn't made eye contact in weeks, he hadn't held her for nearly three months, they hadn't spoken to each other either, not including their countless fights.

Betty did her best to keep out of all contact with Jughead. No texts, no phone calls, no 'accidental' run ins, absolutely nothing.

It only lasted three days, of course. She had kept a perfect streak of silence until Sunday night at three in the morning as she sat on her bedroom floor. The bare skin of her back was pressed against the cold glass of her mirror as she struggled to keep her breathing even. The pounding in the back of her head was nearly as bad as the stinging of her shaky hands, which she was struggling to keep uncurled. Squeezing her eyes shut as a desperate plea for the tears to stop, her hands grasped the floor blindly, searching the floor for something to hold, something to stop her from spilling any more blood.

She ended up with her phone, which shined bright in the darkness of the room. She couldn't stop the sob that escaped her mouth as she looked at her lockscreen. It had been the same for the past year, a picture of Jughead holding up his camera and smiling at her and she suddenly regretted not having the heart to change it as more thoughts abruptly pushed their way back into her mind.

She did her best to ignore them, to ignore the sharpness of the pain behind her eyes and the way it felt as if her heart were bleeding, how it felt as if it were whispering all of it's sorrows and regrets to her in the middle of the night. She couldn't control her breathing by now, and she sat hyperventilating. She didn't notice when her phone slipped from her hand, hitting the ground with a thud. She felt herself slowly losing the battle she was already having with the panic attack that she could have seen coming from a mile away. Betty gave up, she succumbed to her mind and finally allowed her mind to take over, her perfectly manicured nails now covered with her own blood. She didn't register the burning as she made her mark in her own skin, she was already lost.

–

“I just don't know what to do,” he whispered, staring out the window at the glowing city before him

“You say that like I do, neither of us even know what you did, but whatever it was, you fucked up big time, Jones.” she sighed, taking a long sip of her beer

“Like I don't know that.” he spat

“Don't get pissy with me. This is your mess after all.”

“Don't act like you haven't come to me for girl problems before, Topaz.”

“Yeah, but at least I don't get emo about it every time.”

“Shut the fuck up, Toni.”

The two sat there in silence for a moment, waiting for the other to speak. The clock showed that it was much to late for Jughead to be awake in his opinion, nearly twenty minutes past three and he should have been asleep hours ago, but Toni looked wide awake and he knew that there was no way he could allow himself to go asleep and leave her unsupervised in his apartment.

“Look.” she sighed, ignoring the way he immediately looked away when she began to talk “Have you tried to talk to her at least? You've made her out to sound pretty understanding, so I don't really see what your problem is.”

“We haven't actually talked for quite a while. It's all arguing.”

“You make it sound like you guys are around each other quite often, though.” she pointed out.

“We aren't really talking then, either, Toni.” he groaned, burying his face in his knees to hide the blush rising on his neck.

“Really Jug? You can't even keep it in your fucking pants to talk to the girl?” she snapped, and it was evident that she mad.

He wasn't sure why, but he guessed it was because he had been complaining for the last six months and he had just now told her this.

“It isn't like that and we both know it.” he replied, trying to shut down the conversation

“But isn't it?” she challenged, staring him down.

Jughead pulled himself to his feet, stumbling slightly and he sighed, running a hand down his face. He turned from her, ignoring her laughter, taunting him with the fact that she had clearly won. He turned sharply on his heel, facing the hall down this bedroom and began to walk away.

“I'll fucking be back.” he told her.

–

By the time her breathing was nearly even again, it nearly four and Betty could feel the sting of loneliness in her heart. She was still crying, her hands still shaking and the headache had only gotten worse. She felt desperate, a longing that was with her constantly. She couldn't control it, but then again, it seemed as if she couldn't control much nowadays. Reaching for her phone again, the screen now cracked from its fall, she unlocked it and clicked on his contact.

She knew that she shouldn't have called him. Shouldn't have let him sneak into her thoughts, but she also knew that he was always there anyway. He was the reason why she could always feel this cloud of anxiety above her where ever she went. Always felt his presence, even when he was gone. She knew it wasn't what she should have done, not in the state of mind that she. Not while the blood was barely drying and she could still feel all of the worry, betrayal, hatred. All of the love masked by hurt. But she called him anyways. She called and she listened to the ringing until he picked up.

“Juggie.” she breathed into the phone, her voice slightly raspy from earlier, tears in her eyes. She just wanted to hear his voice, wanted him to assure her it was okay, but above all, she wanted him with her. Wanted him to fill the gaping hole he had left in her heart.

“Oh.” she heard the other person say, someone who was not Jughead, the other girl “He's coming right now.”

She could hear what she could only assume was him in the background, a door slamming shut and heavy footsteps progressively getting louder. But, her mind registered that the girl was with him, at four in the morning, before she registered the fact that he was coming, she was so close to hearing him again.

Her breath hitched, the tears that had just stopped began to fall again, and her free hand began to curl into a fist again. She shook her head, whispering no before realizing what was happening, what she was doing again.

“No,” she said softly, trying to hide the disappointment in her voice, trying to hide the fact that the hole in heart was beginning to grow again. “Tell him it's fine.” She couldn't stop the sob that left her mouth and she began to speak a little faster, desperate to end the call. “It's nothing.” and then she hung up the phone, and dragged herself to her bed, sobbing into the pillow that still smelled of him.

–

Jughead sat on his bed, trying to calm himself until he heard his phone ringing from the living room. He recognized the sound, a song he had chosen specifically for her, and he was on his feet before Toni called his name. He heard Toni answer it and he cursed silently, knowing that if Betty was calling him this late, especially after their last battle, it was important. He also knew that as soon as she heard another girl's voice, she would panic. By the time he had reached the living room, Toni was staring at his phone in surprise, and it was evident that one of the two had hung up.

“She said that it was nothing, cried, then hung up,” she said quietly, clearly shocked.

“God damn it Toni.” he growled, snatching the phone out of her hands.

Desperately, he dialed her number and called her, again and again, hoping for her to answer, worry clouding his thoughts at every unanswered call. He turned to Toni, who sat on the couch staring at him,

“I do not care what the event is.” he snarled at her, too worried to feel the guilt for being so cold to her “If she calls, you do not answer. You bring the fucking phone to me.”

Toni merely nodded, and Jughead stormed back to his room, slamming the door shut behind him.

–

Betty ignored every time he called her, eventually silencing her phone. She ignored the emptiness she felt inside of her, the feeling she had grown accustomed to over the past six months, and dragged herself out of bed, stumbling to the liquor cabinet.


End file.
